


Feather Light

by ritsuko



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Blindfolds, Duct Tape, Feathers & Featherplay, Gags, Humiliation, Light Bondage, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Selfies, Spanking, Teasing, Vibrators, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's tied up with no idea how he got this way. Is Sherlock using him for an experiment?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feather Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imera/gifts).



> For the lovely Imera~ Happy Holidays!

The gag is his mouth is crusted with saliva and a hint of blood. John doesn't know how long he's been tied here, or where here even is. The blindfold covering his eyes feels soft, but does an excellent job of keeping him from seeing a thing. All he knows is he can feel cool, silky sheets beneath his body, smell cologne in the air. 

It's not unpleasant, save for being bound and completely naked. His arms are bent back behind his head, legs spread and bound back as well. He feels doubled on himself, but it's not uncomfortable.

But it doesn't put his mind at ease at all.

The last thing he can remember is drinking sherry with Mrs. Hudson and terrible Christmas sweaters and Sherlock grousing that at least the holiday could have a little more murder. But nothing that would lead to him being bound in the nude and unable to see or speak.

He waits until the lack of blood flow starts to become uncomfortable. John wriggles in his bonds, trying to get some of the feeling back. 

That's when he feels the slight tickling sensation on the back of his thighs, ever so close to his balls. The touch is soft and featherlight. Immediately he strains against his restraints, squirming against the tantalizing touch.

It doesn't stop, just reaches an intensity as it glides up and down the back of his thighs, sending shivers up his torso. He can feel his cock lurch, starting to thicken under the teasing ministrations, and a grunt is muffled by the gag. For a split second, it stops, and then he feels the sensation tickling up his shaft. 

This time, he moans, loud and needy and high pitched. It's shameful, but God does it feel good.

The first slap catches him off guard, a flash of hot pain against his buttocks that wars with the silky sensation against his cock. He almost chokes on his own saliva, unready for the sensation. The second and third slaps are just as hard, but then a soothing soft hand rubs over each buttock lovingly. John takes a moment to catch his breath, dizzy from the feelings. 

Something clamps onto his nipple, pinching relentlessly. He whines, arching against the sharp feeling against the nub, when the other is also claimed. He can feel a chain of some sort between them, heavy and weighing down on his chest. It hurts, but at the same time the tugging feels so delicious that he can't help the whimpers that escape him.

What he has now deducted is a feather continues to slide lazily up and down his shaft, sending pinpricks of desire coursing through his body. He's fully erect now, pre-cum leaking from his slit. He groans, rocking his hips into that touch. He hears a slight chuckle, the first noise from the other person. Up until this point, he'd thought it was Sherlock; another crazy scheme for him to gather information about some form of case. It had happened in the past, so there was no denying that the man who was insatiable for knowledge would do it again even with his grumblings about it.

But would Sherlock laugh?

He doesn't have another moment to think about it because something slick is pressing against his ass. John squawks behind the gag. Sure, a little bondagey stuff is fine, but this was escalating much farther than the detective had ever made him do. Weakly, he strains against the bonds, mentally cursing his position.

The intrusion doesn't stop, the slick rigid thing pushing past the tight pucker of his hole. If not for the lubrication and the touches against his dick, it might hurt. The thing is hard, but not painful. Each breath comes in a hiss as centimeter by centimeter, it is sheathed in his body.

And then it moves.

John goes taut, back arching like a bow. Good God, but that struck a place inside him! He was a doctor and he very well knew what a prostate was, but to have someone else make him feel like this? He grunts through the gag, hips jerking forward of their own volition. He hears that little chuckle again, and it sounds so familiar but he can't place it.

All he can do is succumb to the sensations wracking his body, the gyrating vibrator inside him, brushing against his sweet spot with every twirl. His cock juts in the air, seeing attention, but now, the feather light touches have gone. Still, he can't help but pitch his hips forward in search of contact. His nipples feel so stiff and hard, each bounce of his hips pulls on the chain connecting them.

He feels his balls start to clench, knows that he's about to blow. It shocks him, the ministrations on his cock have stopped and yet here he is, about to come without even being touched there. A low whine escapes as he exhales through his nose, hips unable to stop gyrating along with the motions inside of him.

John feels his own semen splatter against his chest as his cock spurts madly, undone by the undulations inside him. The movements cease as the object is turned off, the other man satisfied with how fully spent he is. 

As he comes down, breath ragged, he can hear the click of a camera phone going off, and he weakly turns his head towards the sound. Why on earth would Sherlock take pictures?

He feels someone kneel next to him, grab his hair, and press his cheek against his own. Another click.

A selfie?

It's then he catches the whiff of aftershave, musky and expensive. His head is dropped and his heart sinks. Trembling with rage, he struggles even harder.

"Oh, come on now, Johnny Boy, don't be such a poor sport." Moriarty's sing song voice pervades his senses. "You look like you enjoyed yourself quite a bit. "Sherly's gonna be so jealous. . . do make sure to give him my best?" He pats John's ass, and he shirks away.

"Now now, no need to be rude." Jim sniffs, voice laced with irritation. "I see you didn't get enough."

The vibrator starts inside him again, ministrations doubly intense. John grits his teeth even as his cock starts to perk. He can feel Jim plastering something against the vibrator, holding it in place. Duct tape? John doesn't know. His mind is starting to blank again, a desperate whine escaping him with every exhale.

"There, that's a much better present for Mr. Holmes." A soft finger trails down the curve of his ass, before disappearing. "Well, you have fun. I'm guessing it'll be about three hours before he figures out where you are. Try not to come too much, you wouldn't want to look too debauched when he gets here." Jim laughs, steps echoing into the distance. 

John wishes he could care, wishes he could fight the feelings.

He'll be embarrassed later. But for now, it feels so, so good.


End file.
